


Transition Point

by LtLJ



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-29
Updated: 2006-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 09:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtLJ/pseuds/LtLJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teyla said, "Go to see him, you will feel better." Rodney really doubted that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transition Point

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Stargate Atlantis Season 2 episode "Conversion."

Rodney had been up on the _Daedalus_ for a week working with that little bastard Hermiod, and he hadn't seen Sheppard since the last minute aversion of death by Iratus bug/Wraith retrovirus. He had been getting updates on Sheppard's condition in the daily databurst, so he knew it was going as well as could be expected; and besides, the updates made it plain that Sheppard didn't want visitors. But once he beamed back down to Atlantis, Teyla said, "Go to see him, you will feel better."

Rodney really doubted that. "I don't see why I can't wait until he's not--" He waved his hands, but Teyla kept her expression of annoyingly polite inquiry, as if she had no idea what he meant. He gave in, finishing, "Bug-like."

"Because then it will be as if nothing happened," she said patiently.

"Exactly! And he doesn't want visitors!"

Teyla lifted a brow, and somehow Rodney ended up going anyway.

  
***

  
When Rodney walked into the medlab, it was oddly empty. There were a couple of nurses around, but there weren't any other patients, and he didn't think that was a good sign. Then Carson came briskly out of his office, smiling. "Rodney, you're back, then."

"Obviously." He waved around at the sparsely populated treatment area. Without patients, it looked less like a hospital and more like a place where things got dissected. "What's this?"

"Oh, we only had a few other patients, so I just moved them into the overflow space we're sharing with biology next door, and turned this into a private ward." Carson took his elbow, steering him between the diagnostic beds, back toward the lab bay. "You're here to see Colonel Sheppard, then?"

Rodney tried for casual. "So he's ready for visitors? Because if he isn't--"

"Yes, just remember to keep your voice down."

Rodney snorted. "No, really? Since this is a hospital, I thought yodeling would be appropriate behavior."

Carson just continued to drag him across the lab.

The private room was near the back of the infirmary space. The door was shut but there was an observation window in the wall. Because this was Atlantis, the window had abstract patterns of colored glass, but it was still obvious that the room inside was nearly dark. Rodney squinted, peering inside. With the lights at the lowest level, he couldn't see anything in the bed except a shapeless heap under tumbled blankets. The multiple IV stands were the only indication that there was something alive under there. He refused to admit to a flush of guilty relief. "Why didn't you say he was asleep? I'll come back later."

Carson glanced up, squinting at the glowing Ancient sensor readout mounted over the bed. "No, he's awake."

"What?" Rodney looked again, feeling his jaw drop. The heap was at the top of the bed, as if trying to get as far from the door as possible. He turned to stare at Carson. "What the hell? What did you do to him?"

Carson made a note on his PDA, saying in an irritatingly complacent tone, "He's fine, Rodney. He's been doing much better in the past couple of days, in fact."

Rodney pointed, gritting his teeth. "Then why is he like that?" He had been prepared to see Sheppard still looking like a monster, for any emotional state from insane to cranky. He hadn't been prepared to see Sheppard look pathetic.

Carson sighed. "It's not a comfortable process, Rodney, and it's happening at a very slow pace. He's also still terribly over-sensitive to light, sound, scent." Rodney must still be staring accusingly at him, because he added in exasperation, "A week ago he didn't know where he was and barely recognized us. This is a marked improvement, and if it continues at this rate, in another week or so I'll be able to release him."

"So he's not still--" Rodney made a vague gesture. Carson lifted his brows and Rodney grimaced. He had no idea what he meant either. He said tightly, "I just want to be prepared."

Carson said patiently, "You last saw him when his condition was at its worst, when he was out of his mind. Compared to that, this is nothing. Just go in and talk to him. You'll see." He checked his watch. "Though you can't stay long. It's nearly time for a procedure we have to do every day. I have to give him a sedative for it, but it does help if someone visits with him and keeps him distracted until it has a chance to take effect."

One of the nurses walked up then, and Carson traded her the PDA for a very large hypodermic needle. Rodney eyed him suspiciously. "He knows you're sedating him?"

Carson rolled his eyes. "Of course he knows, Rodney. I told you, he's completely lucid now, he just feels like bloody hell. Now, wait a moment and I'll tell him you're here."

Rodney made an ironic "after you" gesture. "Fine."

Carson touched the wall console and the door slid open. As he stepped over the threshold, he said softly, "It's me, Colonel." The lump under the blankets still twitched in what Rodney interpreted as alarm. Carson went to the bed, speaking quietly to the lump while adding the injection to the IV. When Carson came out again, he said, "Go on now," and gave Rodney a completely unnecessary shove into the room.

Rodney took a couple of more steps inside, noticing that the room was absolutely bare, no personal items, nothing but the IV stands and other medical paraphernalia. Except for the copper walls and blue floor panels, it would have looked like a cell. It still looked like a cell. He lifted his chin. "Hello. It's, ah, me." The lump stirred a little, and Rodney added, "I'm assuming that's you under there?"

There was a hesitation. "Yes."

Sheppard's voice. Low and raspy and almost lifeless, but definitely him. And something in the tone made Rodney reevaluate that opening comment. He realized what he had said could possibly be misconstrued. "That was-- I was kidding, actually. I know it's you. Carson told me."

Silence for another long moment, then, "Whatever."

Right, two sentences in, and this already wasn't going well. "So, I...." He blurted, "Does it hurt?"

"No."

Now that was ridiculous. Rodney folded his arms impatiently. "Please. So you're in a fetal position in the pillow fortress of solitude because it feels good? Why do I doubt that?"

"It doesn't hurt," Sheppard said, annoyed, but suddenly sounding a lot more like himself. "It's...freaky."

Rodney was unconvinced. Carson was one of those doctors who believed in slapping you out of bed twenty minutes after major surgery, and he knew Sheppard had always taken the manly stoic affectation way too far. Not that it was easy to get a second opinion out here; Sayyar and Biro and the others were all Carson's mind-enslaved minions. He said suspiciously, "Define freaky."

"Clumps of my skin falling off." Sheppard's voice was sour. "Actually if they just fell, it wouldn't be so--" Rodney heard a startled hiss, then, "Crap."

Rodney tensed, swallowing in a suddenly dry throat. "Are you all right?"

The lump subsided. "Yes."

Back to listless monosyllables again. Rodney flung his arms in the air, giving in to frustration. "Hasn't anyone brought you anything to do? Do they just let you lie there like a lab experiment?"

He heard an impatient sigh. "I can only see out of one eye, one of my hands is still messed up. Light hurts, sound hurts, everything smells bad. This is pretty much it."

Rodney stared. Nobody had said anything about permanent damage, but...pilots needed both eyes. "But that's all temporary, right?"

"Yeah. It's just...one eye is normal now, and one's still changing."

"Oh." Rodney cleared his throat. "That does sound awkward."

"That's one way of putting it."

Rodney reluctantly decided that the medical staff was not being allowed to abuse Sheppard. It was starting to become obvious that keeping this area of the medlab empty and the room bare was the only way to minimize possible irritants. "So...you just lie there."

This time there was an edge in Sheppard's voice. "What would you like me to do?"

"Excuse me, I wasn't criticizing," Rodney snapped back. He flinched as someone poked him from behind. He turned around to see one of the nurses in the open doorway, motioning imperatively and mouthing the words, "Keep your voice down."

"Yes, yes, I know, now get out," he whispered back, shooing her away.

"Who was that?" Sheppard asked.

"Just a nurse." Rodney shifted uneasily. "Am I talking too loud?"

There was a movement that might possibly be interpreted as a shrug. "People come and talk to me all the time, I'm used to it."

Rodney frowned. "They said you didn't want visitors."

"I don't. It's just Teyla. And Elizabeth, and Ronon. And, you know, Carson, Sayyar, Biro. Nancy and Harpreet and the other nurses. Halling was here yesterday. And Zelenka. Benson, Ramirez, Stackhouse--"

Okay, fine, apparently _he doesn't want visitors_ was a secret code for _so what time will you be there?_ "You knew I was on the _Daedalus_, right?"

"Yeah, they told me." The blankets stirred again, and with the first real interest in his voice, Sheppard asked, "How did that go?"

"Actually," Rodney began, and launched into an account of Dr. Rodney McKay vs. Hermiod, Asgard Know-it-All and Genuine Bastard, best two falls out of three. Sheppard kept interrupting with mostly irrelevant questions, and Rodney got so involved in the conversation, and so relieved by the fact that Sheppard's voice actually sounded almost animated again, that Rodney found himself agreeing with him on the point that all aliens were untrustworthy no matter what the SGC thought. Not a position Rodney normally countenanced, but it was hard to argue it with a man who had clumps of skin falling off due to an alien retrovirus. He felt he could be magnanimous and at least save his counter-arguments until Sheppard was willing to come out from under the blanket.

After elaborating on the problems involving fine-tuning the _Daedalus_' sensors while encumbered by Asgard superiority, Rodney realized Sheppard had stopped contributing to the discussion. "Colonel, are you all right?"

"Yeah. It's...uh, the shot." Sheppard's voice sounded slurred and sleepy.

Dr. Sayyar stepped into the room then, asking, "Is he out?"

Suddenly flustered, Rodney made vague motions. "I-- Yes, he was getting-- It sounded like--"

"Ah, good." Sayyar nodded and keyed his radio, calling for Carson.

Rodney meant to leave, but found himself just standing there as Sayyar went over to the bed and checked under the blanket. "Colonel Sheppard?"

The answer was a sleepy incoherent mutter. Sayyar took a folded pad from the stand, slid it carefully under the blanket, then nodded to the nurse waiting in the doorway. She touched the wall console and the lights came on at operating theater-strength, making Rodney wince. Then Sayyar pulled the blanket back.

Rodney was aware he was a little shocked at the fact that he wasn't shocked enough.

Sheppard was dressed in white scrubs, creased and disheveled, spotted with dried blood and some kind of green fluid. Rodney couldn't see much of his face, because Sayyar was holding the pad over Sheppard's eyes.

With a little gentle prompting, Sheppard rolled onto his back, legs uncurling, tension flowing out of his body in a sleepy stretch. One arm went back over his head, but the other, the one all the IVs were attached to, was tucked protectively against his side. His shirt had ridden up and Rodney could see the patches of hard blue scaly skin, some of it cracked in deep furrows and oozing, or coming off in thick sections. It was fairly horrible, but he could also see the new human skin underneath, pink and tender where the other had sloughed away. Sheppard didn't look like a monster, he looked like Sheppard with a lot of blue scaly gunk on him.

Rodney was suddenly conscious of a flush of relief and the release of a tension that he hadn't been aware of until just now.

Carson ducked his head through the doorway to say, "Sorry, I'll be there in a moment. We're short of a nurse today."

Sayyar was temporarily stuck keeping the pad in place over Sheppard's eyes, and there was no one else in the room to help. "What, do you just need someone to hold that?" Rodney found himself asking.

Sayyar lifted his brows. "If you wouldn't mind. It'll just be a moment until we get things set up here."

Rodney stepped up to the side of the bed, and gingerly put his hand on the pad, careful not to let it slip when Sayyar deftly slid away.

Sheppard's hair was matted and soaked with sweat, and there were scaly spots on his forehead, his right cheek. His left hand was streaked with blue from the knuckles down and still had a couple of long black claws. Rodney was just glad that he couldn't see Sheppard's bad eye; what he could see looked painful enough.

Then Sheppard reached up, moving languidly, and hooked his hand around Rodney's wrist. Frowning at the weird sensation of Sheppard's claws clicking against his watch, Rodney said, "It's me, Colonel."

Sheppard released him, arm falling back limply, utterly vulnerable, and Rodney got a sudden tight constriction in his throat. Sayyar was back then, to secure the pad lightly in place with medical tape, and Rodney could step back.

He looked up to see Carson watching him with a faint smile. Rodney demanded, "What?"

"Nothing, Rodney," Carson said, annoyingly. Then he added, "I don't think you're going to want to watch this." He was poking around on the instrument tray the nurse had just carried in.

Rodney frowned. "What? I thought you were just going to change the IVs."

"Now I'd hardly need to sedate him for that, would I?" Carson said, exasperated.

"You'd have to sedate me for that."

Carson gave him a look. "I'm going to excise some of this dead tissue."

Rodney lifted his chin and made a dignified exit.

He found Teyla waiting in the corridor outside the medlab, and told her, "I think he's going to be out for a while."

She nodded, not surprised. "He usually sleeps for much of the night, after this." She lifted an inquiring brow at him.

Rodney tried to bluff it out. "Of course I knew he was recovering, I hadn't thought that--" Under her knowing gaze he broke down. Again. "All right, fine, I feel better. Happy now?"

Teyla's lips quirked. "Yes."

  
**end**


End file.
